Okay, she's not; but she could be. She should be. We all should be at six thirty. Mom really doesn't sleep at six thirty. This mom gets her butt out of bed and rolls it onto the treadmill to work out before her peanut gets up. She likes to have that "her time" before her life's joy graces her with his presence every day. Not sure why she needs any personal space, but whatever.Anyway, she's grumpy the last few days because little peanut has decided because either due to his cold this week or because of daylight savings time, to get his adorable butt up at six thirty a.m. So, we have a number of options now:
1. Move and leave the kid to fend for himself, allowing him to get up at whatever time he pleases
2. Purchase blackout curtains so he has no clue that the sun is rising and thus he should STAY in bed
3. Move Mommy's get-up time back to five thirty...wait that's INSANE. Let's revisit option one
4. Move baby into a bubble to avoid any more germs allowing invasion into his system
I think a combination of options two and four might be in order since I think abandonment laws come into play and bubbles are impractical. Oh yeah, and I do love my kid, thus making it terrible impossible to leave him and terribly horrible to envision having to touch him through plastic Ziploc baggies.
Anyway, I sound disjointed, don't I...maybe that's because I also have the hacking cough that he's got and the half sleep that comes with it. Gee, combine that with the fact that he's eliminating my last few hours of sleep in the morning and I can become almost drunk. They do say that lack of sleep is equivalent to being drunk on the road. No wonder I ran over that elk today on the 405. I think it was an elk anyway; either that or an emu. Okay, it was probably an In-N-Out cup.
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